


i can feel it coming ( in the air tonight )

by dormant_bender



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, I Made Myself Cry, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Sex, Peter Quill Needs a Hug, Romance, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Snippets, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 20:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14457528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormant_bender/pseuds/dormant_bender
Summary: There were some moments that Gamora would always cherish and keep with her until the end of days.Major spoilers, don't read unless you've seen the movie or want to willingly be spoiled!!





	i can feel it coming ( in the air tonight )

**Author's Note:**

> once again: there are hella spoilers here, i'm just saying, read at your own risk ! ! !
> 
> but enjoy, yeah? <3 xx
> 
> (( basically what happened in the movie, but more in-depth thoughts of what was going on in gamora and peter's mind !! ))

  
  
  
  


  
  
  


Travelling through space, surrounded by the twinkling of bright stars with a glimmering background of lapis, leaves one filling like a mere speck in the galaxy; like despite all the anomalies floating about, that the onlooker was just an undesired interference in the tranquil scene. Dark eyes reflect the view outside of the reinforced windows, lips mouthing the words spewing from the speakers, a not-quite-there smile tugging upon her mouth.

  


Behind her echoes the out-of-tune voice of Peter, who swears vehemently that he was never off-key, and she is unable to resist the temptation of offering a fleeting glance over her shoulder at the brunet. What she finds is that those jade eyes are watching her, broad grin firmly in place on his mouth, nodding his head in an attempt at playing it off. 

  


As if she hadn't felt the heat of the stare searing the back of her head. Her lips betray her, twitching upward into a fond smile, one that she could never fight when it came to the galaxy's most obnoxious guardian. She rolls her eyes when he does an impromptu body roll, pointing a forefinger directly at her, beckoning her with a curl of his finger. This causes her to offer a quiet snort, gaze flickering back to the lapis blue of the sky, lips steadily maintaining the smile.

  


She supposes that if she were just a speck in the galaxy, then Peter made her feel like she was the center of the universe. Emerald fingers drum on the armrest of the seat, sticking to the rhythm of the song still droning raucously from the speakers, one leg crossing over the other.

  


"Hey Gamora," Peter calls out abruptly, slicing through the music and resonating as the only sound audible against her eardrums. Almost immediately she shifts in the chair once more, head canting imploring, uttering a noncommittal noise.

  


"No, Peter. How many times do I have to insist that we don't help people for the sole purpose of gaining a few units?" She purses her lips in a stern line, tone completely disapproving, though she can't help the amusement that lurks within her irises. "As _Guardians of the Galaxy_ , which are _your_ words, it is _our_ duty to help others who are unable to help themselves. Hero-things, remember? Like your Kevin Bacon."

  


Self-proclaimed Star-Lord raises a forefinger, almost as if he was formulating a retort, before nodding his head thoughtfully. "While I can't fight that logic, that's kinda not what I was gonna say . . . " She narrows her lids skeptically, quirking a challenging brow: "Okay, fine. But what I was really gonna say was, you know, that you're . . . "

  


Initially the latter pauses in the middle of the statement, leaving the ombre-haired woman placing an elbow upon the armrest, balancing her chin on the fist her hand makes. "Annoyed of your antics, perhaps?" helpfully offers the woman, lips twitching into a barely there smirk.

  


"You're beautiful." 

  


Dark brows furrow at the word, not because the statement was foreign or even that she doubted them coming from the brunet, but simply because it had been entirely unexpected. She purses her lips, head tilting in that same apprehensive way, looking considerate before she thinks of an answer. Peter looks pleased with himself, just smiles in that charming way he does, starting to mouth the words to the love song currently playing.

  


She drags her freshly-bruised knuckles across her chin for another decisive moment, lips twitching into another smirk as she shifts in the seat to face the wide glass. "And I find you slightly less annoying, so I think we're equal."

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


Emerald fingers reach out to cover Peter's mouth as he speaks, ultimately hushing him and any potential opposition that may emanate from his lips. Words are muffled and barely audible against her bare palm, jade eyes going wide and bewildered, desperately searching hers for signs that perhaps her prior statement had been something akin to cruel, harsh joke.

  


For the first time in quite a while, the warrior is frightened—frightened by the thought of once again facing her father, the one who had raised her to be as horrendous as himself, and worst of yet, the thought of losing Peter, and everyone else for that matter, that had cemented themselves into her life. The life that she had thought to be meaningless prior to making acquaintances with her group of idiots that she adored.

  


"You have to promise," Gamora speaks somberly, eyes glassy and pricking with the threat of tears. "Promise me, Peter, that you will kill me." She hesitantly removes the hand from his mouth, hearing him splutter a litany of curses, adam's apple bobbing as he restrains the knot building in his throat. 

  


And Peter—poor Peter, the same Peter who had lost his mother and then been forced to kill the man he had been so desperately searching for his entire life—looks so broken in that moment that Gamora fears the idea that she could be the end of him entirely. But she knows that the secret that she had kept hidden in the deep crevices of her mind could never be voiced aloud, not if the Guardians had hoped to overcome the ominous threat of Thanos.

  


"Okay." Peter states simply, nodding vigorously: " _I promise_." 

  


Without thinking about the consequences of her actions, she surges forward to press her lips flush against his, and it's searing and burning and all the other words that she desired to think abandon her as well as all logical thought. She revels in the tentative press of Peter's lips, starting off as a gentle pressure, then more as he melts against her mouth and melds into the soft contours of her body.

  


His hands go to her shoulders first, squeezing her, more-so to reassure himself that she was still there and would hopefully continue to be there just as she is now. And then his hands shift, possessing the slightest of tremors, to gingerly cradle her face. His thumbs stroke the skin there, brushing away the crystalline tears that freely cascade down her cheeks, lips working hers open and soothing her with a gentle flick of his tongue, coaxing her to temporarily ignore the looming threat.

  


Not that Peter isn't equally as terrified, he is, but he knows that it won't come down to that. If anything, he would be the one sacrificing himself to save the ombre-haired beauty, the fierce and merciless warrior that fists at the feathery hairs at the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss and sliding her idle hand down the expanse of his chest to tug at the material of his shirt, desiring to feel him closer than close.

  


The distracting crunch of something or another leads the duo to part, Gamora rolling her eyes at the sight of an amused-looking Drax standing a few feet away. Peter, who reluctantly removes his hands from the latter, awkward shoves them into his pockets and stares at the beefy alien: "How long have you been standing there?"

  


Drax, who continues to munch on the snacks he had acquired, shrugs a halfhearted shoulder, smiling around a mouthful. "I have been here for an hour." He pauses, glances at the two: "I discovered that when I stand still, like this, that I am invisible to the naked eye." 

  


As displeased as she is, Gamora manages to crack a smile, arms slanting over her chest and hip jutting out as she cants her head at the alien. "You're _not_ invisible." states the warrior matter-of-factually, eyes rolling as she shifts her gaze to Peter, finds him staring incredulously at the blue alien, brows furrowing as he reverts his sight back to Gamora.

  


"Can you believe this?"

  


Instead of answering with words, Gamora nods her head once, indicating that _yeah_ , she had expected this kind of peculiar behavior. In fact: she wouldn't expect any less from Drax, who had an odd amount of eccentric behaviors, one's she and the rest of the crew had initially struggled to deal with. Now, however, she can only snort at his actions and continue on with her day as if it were a normalcy.

  


Arms still crossed over her chest, Gamora saunters past Drax and Mantis, who had recently joined the group, deciding that she would need a little alone time to sort out what was going on with her. Not that she had detested the kiss, or the blatant display of emotion—she absentmindedly swipes at a tear that clings to her chin, only sniffling once—, she just knows that all good things come to an end; it was a proverb that had haunted her for quite a while.

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


Boot-clad feet are pressed into the steel of the floor, shoulders hunched forward, dark eyes scanning the blade within her hand studiously, searching for imperfections as she swipes a rag against the blunt curve. She adjusts the blade in her grip upon hearing the sound of footsteps approaching, clacking boisterously on the steel. Gamora peers at the intruder, finds Peter leaning casually against the door frame, coughing into a fist.

  


"About before—" Gamora raises a hand to silence him, doesn't want to hear what he has to say right now. He raises his hands in defense, corners of his mouth pulling down in a frown. 

  


She sets the blade aside onto the creased sheets of the cot, beckoning him over with a finger. He promptly moves into position, plopping down unceremoniously beside her, peering at her through the dim glow of the overhead lights. "Peter, you understand why I wanted you to do it and no one else, don't you?"

  


Peter dumbly shakes his head, can feel that knot crawling up his esophagus once more, but swallows it down, tugging at the collar of his shirt in a feeble attempt to will the sensation away. The emerald-skinned woman straightens her spine, shifting in her seat, knees bumping against the brunet's. She doesn't hesitate to reach forward and take his calloused hand in her own, offering it a warm squeeze, dark gaze possessing an intensity that makes Peter have to glance elsewhere.

  


"I want—no, I _need_ you to do it because I trust you more than anyone else." Her voice lowers and her tone goes solemn, one of her hands attaching to the latter's chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. "I don't fear death as much whenever you are around," she offers a humorless, bitter laugh: "Before I used to fear it, losing you and everyone else. But now, I don't mind the thought, not when the last sight I would see is you."

  


It was one of those moments where the brunet was left dumbfounded and unable to come up with a proper response, something that occurred often when Gamora would speak to him one-on-one like this. The tears previously held back were brimming once more, and he clenches his jaw, doesn't want to display the weakness he typically does in front of the gallant, warrior goddess. He leans forward, feels their noses bump, but he doesn't mind, not when her dark eyes are flickering to his lips.

  


She can feel Peter's breath dancing across her skin as he breathes, can smell the scent of his toothpaste even, and the aroma of the expensive hair products he had stolen not-too-long ago. It also makes her laugh, and a familiar sense of giddiness fills her veins to replace the melancholy that had settled there. She parts her lips ever-so-slightly then leans forward the centimeter it takes to connect them, teeth capturing Peter's bottom lip and tugging at it lightly.

  


"Gamora, I want you to know that I—" But once more she is silencing him, pressing a hand gently against his chest, pleased when Peter obliges and falls back against the stiff mattress. He crawls back and has the latter clamoring after him, settling within his lap, the tip of her tongue flicking across his top lip.

  


"You don't have to say it, though I would prefer if you show me."

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


Somehow the two had managed to find downtime between attempting to find a solution to the issue at hand, one of those rare and quiet moments away from a prying Drax and an ever-curious Mantis, who was filled with wonder and questions at all times. Peter had managed to convince the duo that there were more pressing matters to attend to, one's that involved speaking to the warrior in confidence and away from eavesdroppers.

  


Of course it had worked, Peter had never doubted that the plan would fail, especially if the plan had been concocted by him. He was currently preoccupied with Gamora beneath him, murmuring on about how in a different situation, she would be reigning on top, which was where she belonged. Jade eyes narrow at her playfully, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to her mouth, seeing her ivory smile in return.

  


As he ventures a hand lower down her bare stomach, feeling the taut muscle there contracting beneath his fingertips, he glances up at her and coins her a wary glance. The silent exchange is brief and telling, Gamora having pursed her lips into a thin line, lids narrowing quizzically: "Is it really the time to be questioning if our anatomic structures are compatible, Peter?"

  


Fair cheeks darken considerably at the query, eyes going wide, expression explaining his exact thoughts. "Well yeah, like— . . . Isn't that _kinda_ important?" splutters the brunet, adjusting his elbow on the sheets, propping himself up to peer down at the woman.

  


"Are you expecting to find tentacles?" ponders Gamora aloud, releasing a snort at the horrified grimace that crosses the latter's countenance: "because I can assure you that isn't the case and, for that matter, if you don't touch me right now, you will not live to see the next morning."

  


Peter feels an involuntary shiver wrack through his form at her domineering tone, vaguely wonders if she talks like that on purpose—he knows she doesn't, that's just how she talks, how she always talks but right now, it sounded like the most intriguing form of foreplay. He can feel the heaviness of his cock between his legs, pressing insistently against the side of her thigh, can see her eyes darkening wantonly at just the tease of him there.

  


"Aye, aye captain."

  


Gamora glares at him, then, reaching out to sneak a hand around the base of his throat; she doesn't apply much pressure there, but she can feel the speed of his pulse rising against her finger-pads. "Shut up, Peter." 

  


Peter nods enthusiastically and eases a hand lower down her abdomen, can feel her body angling toward the warmth of his palm, only pausing when he glides a finger down her slit; he nearly hisses at the wetness there, can feel his cock twitching its need, pulsing and desiring to be in its place. "Yes, ma'am."

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


Dread encompasses the lithe warrior as she stares, teary-eyed, at the sight of her wounded father-figure. There he is before her with a slit in the throat, attempting to quell the blood freely flowing down his armor, while the other clutches onto the ailed slice in his abdomen. In that moment, he looks almost as weak as she feels. She had bested her father, a feat she had never previously thought possible, yet there she is overwhelmed by the sight of the Titan finally brought to his knees—like he had deserved.

  


"Is that sorrow I see, my daughter?"

  


Her knees dig deeper into the grimy floor as the world around her warps; turned over machines and other wacky collective items had disappeared and had been replaced with burning flames, objects previously rusted reduced to ashes. She peers up through her lashes, can feel the foreboding lurking in the center of her chest, can feel her pulse thudding rapidly in her ears, as she looks up at Thanos.

  


The brief exchange happens in a blur, one she can barely remember, and then she's being retched to her feet by a pair of meaty hands, can feel the cool press of the gauntlet at the base of her throat. Dark eyes peer at the sight of the glowing stones set in place, then at the sight of Peter as he approaches, hissing how he had specifically told her " _to go right_."

  


He has the element gun trained at Thanos' head, watery gaze concentrating on the sight of Gamora, like it could possibly be his last. "Let her go, you big, purple ball-sack."

  


Thanos adjusts the hold he has on the warrior, like he was putting her on full display. "By all means, kill her." taunts the alien, uttering a rumble of a laugh: "We both know you are far too weak to do it."

  


It leaves a crack in Peter's resolve, perspired palm adjusting his grip on the gun, eyes welling with unshod tears as he stares at Gamora. She wears an equally as horrified look, one more-so for the latter than herself; she had accepted her fate long ago. "Peter, _you promised_ . . . " breathes Gamora, eyes wide and pleading, dark eyes focused on Peter versus the gun. "You promised."

  


And the gun shifts then to Gamora, finger trembling on the trigger, not desiring to glance at the smug smirk that twitches across her father's face. " _Gamora_ . . . "

  


It was the first time she had ever heard her name spoken like that by someone—like her name held meaning, in a way that openly caressed her, wiping away the tears that threaten to dampen her cheeks. "I love you, more than anything." Gamora states, ignoring the figure poised behind her, grip tightening around her throat and restricting her breathing.

  


The finger on the trigger continues to tremble, but at a higher frequency and intensity. Jade eyes are resolute, a single tear sliding from the duct, bottom lip trembling as he responds: "I love you, too." 

  


Everything is clear in that moment, and Gamora absentmindedly muses that the universe was avid on humoring her in the remaining seconds of her life. The creases in Peter's face are defined, the stern set of his jaw as it clenches, how his green eyes darken considerably as he acquiesces. He inhales sharply, the sound nearly piercing against her eardrums, lulling her in her final breath, and then he releases with gentle pressure on the trigger.

  


Her eyes remain unblinking, yet her demise doesn't come like she had been expecting. The arm around her loosens, but the hold still remains taut, inhibiting her from movement. All she can do is weakly croak Peter's name before the Titan's voice rises, voicing the humorous situation: "I like you," states Thanos just before disappearing with Gamora in his hold, leaving Peter lunging forward, only to grasp nothing but dust particles.

  


 

  


-

  


 

  


No, no, no is the mantra that repeats in her mind as she struggles against the grip of Thanos dragging her toward the edge of the cliff. Death was something she had learned to accept, had even once thought that she had deserved it, but under her own terms and definitely not by the man forcing the fate upon her.

  


He offers her one, final glance before he pushes her over the edge and sends her plummeting down the cliff. Dark eyes fill with tears, and she grasps at the air in front of her, as if by some miracle she would be able to find something to hold onto to save her from such a demise.

  


But then she thinks of Peter, just for a moment; it's all she needs, really. The silent shriek caught in her throat dissipates as she slices through the thick air, eyes fluttering to a content close, allowing the soft voice of Peter to consume her mind and numb her to what was going on around her. 

  


Nothing else mattered, not when she can practically feel the warm, albeit clammy touch of Peter caressing her skin, running fingers through her hair, breathing against the side of her neck, telling her in hushed whispers that she was the most perfect person he had ever had the pleasure of meeting, that he would do anything to ensure her safety—even if it meant laying his life on the line, he would do it, simply because he was in love with the thought of who she was, who she had the potential to be, and so much more than words can accurately describe.

  


And then it's dark, nothing lurking in the crevices of her mind, but her lips still maintain that same smile nonetheless as she drifts off to the thought of Peter Quill spinning her in small circles, tugging her close, and holding her there plastered against his chest for the rest of eternity.

  
  
  


  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> that movie ruined me bYEEE


End file.
